


Blood Like Rain Like Heaven

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Mugen no Juunin | Blade of the Immortal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-23
Updated: 2007-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1634423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story by magicnoire</p><p>Conversations with the dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Like Rain Like Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to meganbmoore for the moral support.  
> The section titles come from the 36 Stratagems of War.
> 
> Written for Kikoujutsuka

 

 

**o. make flowers bloom on a tree**

Heiresses of fallen sword schools don't cry.

At least, they shouldn't. But I broke that rule plenty of times, didn't I? Manji never missed the chance to point out when I did, so I know. I kept count. His favorite thing to say was, _Stop being such a snot-nosed crybaby!_ But I hated it more when he'd ask, _Why do you gotta make such a fuss about everything?_

For someone who used to have a younger sister, Manji really didn't know how to talk to girls. Maybe he was out of practice by the time I met him. Maybe he just forgot.

Maybe he wanted to.

That's why, when you went into hiding after the Bakufu destroyed your precious Itto-ryu, I kept chasing after you. Manji never took me seriously, and being Kagimura's prisoner made him worse. I'd never have thought it possible. It turned out I was wrong. 

You were always curious about that, so I thought I'd let you know. Better late than never. I couldn't tell you then. Revenge was still in my heart, and it refused to leave. You know what they say about old habits.

Besides, I was still in denial. 

Manji was right about one thing.

I was a dumb kid.

  
 **i. attack one foe to win another**

The first time was a coincidence.

You didn't believe me, but it's the truth. Why would I lie about that now?

It happened soon after we freed Manji -- tell Doa I send her my greetings, by the way -- and I was restless. Even though I'd worked so hard to find and rescue him, even though I'd enlisted the aid of others and I owed them a great debt, even though his absence had been like a dog gnawing at my side, I felt suffocated. The freedom and independence I'd come to know were gone.

Hyakurin, I discovered, was right. I'd never become strong with Manji by my side.

My feelings shamed me. How many times had Manji saved my life? I had no right to feel that way. I hated the uncertainty, because it reminded me of how I felt about avenging my parents.

And of how I'd wavered when it came to killing you.

So one night, I ran.

Slipping past Manji had proven easier than I expected. Some bodyguard. Some sake and a warm futon, and he'd sleep through an earthquake. What if some guy tried to carry me off and rape me? Not that I'd _let_ a guy do that, of course. But what if someone tried? It's the principle.

Then again, maybe the possibility didn't even occur to Manji. He was in the room with me, and he still thought I was a kid. It was immature of me, but couldn't he acknowledge I was a woman? I wasn't asking for forever, or even a week. 

I'd have settled for one day.

Was that too much to ask?

You know what happened after: I attracted the attention of a couple vagabonds. A woman wandering alone at night will do that. I fought them as best I could. I thought I was doing a good job too, even though Manji would have found fault with my technique. For that matter, you would have too. But I was fending them off.

Then the third man arrived, and that proved one too many for me.

I still don't know why you were there that night. I'll never understand how Manji and I could travel all over Japan, searching every town and farm, and never find you, but the moment we stopped, there you were.

And always when I was alone.

I forgot my manners. I forgot my grudge against you.

I forgot everything except for the fact that I'd almost died _again_ , because I'd tried to prove myself an adult _again_ to a man who would always consider me a replacement for his little sister. I was angry. I was hurt. It's no excuse, but I'll offer it to you as an explanation. Please accept it, and my apologies.

Thank you for saving my life.

Again.

  
 **ii. make something from nothing**

The second time may or may not have been on purpose.

I realize that sounds ridiculous. How could I possibly not know whether it was one or the other? To this day, I don't know if I walked into that inn, intending to kill you or simply to talk.

In the end, we did neither.

Before you wonder, I don't regret what happened. A part of me always wanted it. Oh sure, if you'd have asked me then, I'd have called you insane and stupid. Like I said, I was in denial.

But I thought you beautiful the first I saw you wield that strange axe of yours, and I thought you a miracle when you gave me water on that deserted road so long ago, and I thought you a savior when you killed those men who attacked me. The denial was cracking, even then, and I was in danger of losing sight of my goal.

In danger of losing myself to you.

I never told Manji. I couldn't bring myself to, and it was private. _Secret._ And anyway, he wouldn't understand. I could barely make sense of it myself.

You see, _you_ moved first. Not me, the impatient one, the reckless one, the one who acted and spoke before thinking. If I'd initiated it, it would have made sense. But I didn't. You did. You. Do you even know why?

Never mind.

It doesn't matter now. 

  
**iii. kill with a borrowed sword**

The third time was deliberate.

But then you already knew that. I made no secret of it. I proclaimed it for the entire world to hear, like the willful child Manji said I was, like the fool you said I'd always be.

I don't know who was more surprised when I stabbed the knife home: you or me. I expected you to stop me, to realize what I was doing, what I'd always intended to do from the moment you cut my father down.

It happened so quickly. One moment you were holding the knife, the next I was reaching for it, and then I blinked and it was buried in your chest and your blood was spilling over my hands, staining my skin red. It shouldn't have been so easy. You were the leader of the Itto-ryu. Its brilliant, genius leader. 

And I was just the heiress of a fallen sword school, who had no hope of carrying on her father's legacy. 

I guess I couldn't escape the cycle of vengeance, after all.

  
 **o. borrow a corpse to bring back a spirit**

My wings of hate are clipped now. They can no longer bear my weight, and I am glad. 

Manji is gone, which is why I'm now able to speak to you so freely. While he doesn't look it sometimes, you know how observant he can be. There are some questions I cannot answer. There are some truths I cannot voice.

My parents are dead. My father's students are dead. Our family's sword school is dead.

That is your fault.

I thought I could escape my desire for revenge. I think you thought I could too. I'm sorry I disappointed you. I wasn't strong enough to escape the chains binding me. But then neither were you. You let yourself be trapped as much as I did. No matter what ideals you spouted, what values you held, the seed of your vision arose out of an old man's bitterness. 

Remember that.

This isn't guilt speaking. I'm not angry anymore, and I will do my best to overcome the hate lingering in my heart. You can only carry so much before it poisons you and everyone around you, and I don't want that to happen to me and my daughter. Look at what it did to your grandfather and you.

Manji and I are leaving in the morning. I don't know when we're coming back. There might not be a "when". So I wanted to let you know I've told my daughter about you, your grandfather, and the wrong my family committed against yours. Just because we couldn't break free of our chains doesn't mean she can't. Perhaps she can succeed where we failed.

It's getting late, and I must go. Manji will be back soon and if I'm not there, he'll worry. If this is the last time we speak, I want you to know I haven't forgotten.

And even if I do, my daughter will remember. Free of anger. Free of hate.

Free from vengeance.

 


End file.
